A Third of Me by Alan Conway Page B

even believe this conversation is happening. We could never afford to do something like that anyway.”
    “Yes we can. Luckily this clinic is trying to drum up business since the first birth was so successful. We qualify for a…a discount, let's say.”
    “Discount? Because…”
    “Well we’d, um, have to be married first, but–”
    “Whoa, whoa, whoa, MARRIED?! Fuck that!” I get up and walk down the hall into the kitchen. Brian follows me, still talking.
    “Damon, calm down, all right? I was joking. Just a joke!”
    I turn and have the urge to hit him and hate myself for even thinking it.
    “Turns out Carter knew my Uncle Harold. Donated a lot of money for Carter's research fund when he first started out. But anyway, Carter agreed to cut us a deal if we go through with it.”
    “That's it? There’s another catch, isn't there?”
    He hesitates then he says, “We won’t be able to keep it a secret, Damon. You know that, right?”
    I nod and consider the ridiculous notion that I might have microphones and cameras shoved in my face if we do decide to do this. It’s not enough to dismiss the idea, but it’s something we both should think about.
    We talk it over at the kitchen counter until dawn. After our heads are all swimmy and drunk with delirium and ready to pass the fuck out, we fall asleep on the couch watching infomercials until the alarm kicks our asses into gear.
    But we have a plan. I only hope it works.
     
    Brian
    I wouldn’t have said anything if the time wasn’t right. People who love each other eventually fall into the same wavelength on this great cosmic spectrum. Sometimes you just know things about people and you don’t need any explanation. I knew Damon wanted children more than I did, and given the opportunity to have his cake and eat it, too – well, I can’t think of a better way to put it – he would take it. And he didn't disappoint. Besides, being together and living together are not one in the same, and we silently chose the latter.
    But creating life together takes things to a whole new level. Luckily Dr. Carter does our consultation over the phone and spares us the airfare. Lauren, Damon, and I sit huddled around the speakerphone listening to Carter explain the procedure and what we can expect during the gestation period as well as long-term. It all sounds too good to be true, honestly, but I'm not willing to give up hope over a few festering doubts.
    Carter’s voice is something ancient – silky smooth and dripping with wisdom and a cowboy’s kindness, like a grandfather explaining to a child why the sky is blue. Our fears are squashed within twenty minutes and we all agree that it’s safe enough for all of us. I’m more worried about Lauren. Hell, she has to carry the child for nine grueling months while we do our best taking care of her. I’m prepared for that, and I believe Damon is, too, but Lauren must be in a world somewhere beyond this one because she is confident and calm and ready for whatever lies ahead.
    The procedure itself doesn't seem that complicated on our end. After the doctors procure one of Lauren’s eggs, and Damon and I each give sperm samples, the DNA from the egg is replaced with mine or Damon’s DNA – what they call mitochondrial DNA will remain – and the egg is then fertilized with the remaining donor sperm. The fertilized egg is then reinserted and implanted artificially. In essence, the child will share genetic characteristics of all three parents. According to the literature we received in the mail, Carter has only recently perfected his methods and the ability to weed out any potential birth defects or complications, but he has high hopes for us and the baby, given our samples are viable enough. A satellite clinic in town will handle our fertility tests then Carter will review the results. If we’re good to go, we’ll know by the end of the week.
    After we hang up with Carter, it hits me. I’m sick with a hereditary illness, and I